


Elemental

by DragonMaster65 (firelord65), firelord65



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr.com, Cross-posted on FF.net, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Potentially cracky concepts, Potentially heartbreaking concepts, Prompt Fill, shortfic collection, varied pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-01-06 22:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12220377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/DragonMaster65, https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/firelord65
Summary: A series of miscellaneous shortfics and drabbles based on prompts. Please see each chapter for tags or concerns.





	1. Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a collection of drabbles and short fics. Many are based off of prompts received on "feckyeswriting," my tumblr blog. Feel free to either suggest more in the reviews or send me a message.
> 
> Additionally, some drabbles may be part of the "Pro Bending Circuit" and will be noted accordingly at the top. Feel free to search out the event in the FF forums and check out some really great submissions by other writers.
> 
> And now to the first of many-
> 
> Mikimoshpit prompted: First holiday together.

 

Zuko leaned back in his seat, unable to help the smile that crept onto his face. There, just now entering the dining hall, was Katara. The gentle silks in brilliant gold and scarlet fluttered with each step.

She'd stayed. That was a good sign. When he had first approached her with his request - fumbling and far too formal with a girl he'd fought for and against with much greater confidence - Zuko had thought he'd overstepped their slowly evolving bond.

But no, here she was, nodding politely to the diplomats who greeted her and ascending the steps to sit in the seat marked for her. Blue eyes glinted in the lamplight as Katara turned to speak to the young Fire Lord. "I didn't miss the starting course, did I? I wasn't certain when the festivities were scheduled to begin."

Zuko shoot his head. Truth be told, he'd shooed away the kitchen staff several times, but Katara didn't need to know that. "You're right on time. The soup is about to come out and then the famous roast salamander-goose will be right after."

It was worth the glowering from the head chef the next day to see Katara beam and relax into her chair.


	2. Tea Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nimadge prompted: So, how about frustrated Katara having tea with uncle Iroh?

"You look stressed," Iroh said. He appeared out of nowhere, sidling up beside Katara as she paced one of the many halls of the Fire Palace. She'd thought it was empty and abandoned. There were plenty of places that someone as unnoticeable as Katara could vanish to. So many rooms were left empty after Ozai's most stalwart supporters fled Zuko's new reign.

Yet still, Iroh had found her. Katara sighed and tried to summon a smile. She could tell from the way he raised an eyebrow that it wasn't terribly convincing. "Yeah, I guess you could say so," she breathed.

Iroh chuckled and extended his elbow. "There are many things to be worried about, but I am certain that at least a few can be helped by some freshly brewed jasmine tea," he suggested. "Please, join me."

Katara struggled with a thousand different tiny excuses, but in the end she took his arm. Iroh brought them to a small, elegantly decorated dining room. The serving boy who approached them didn't even blink at Katara. He placed a fresh set of earthenware cups in front of them before quickly stepping away through a hidden panel door. Iroh cheerfully led the conversation, explaining how he had come to meet the artist who created the set while he was in Ba Sing Se.

She let him continue to explain his first time trying jasmine tea, back when he was a young man and "skinnier than a skunk-weasel." It was nice, sitting on a comfortable cushion, laughing as Iroh pantomimed and exaggerated every emotion from the memory. He didn't press and ask her to explain why she was avoiding anyone. Katara was allowed to relax, smile, and be a normal person.


	3. Fissure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An unused piece for the Pro Bending Circuit. Can be read as an alternate starter for The Fall of the Blue Dragon.
> 
> (object) a faded photograph  
> (plot point) someone has just woken up from a nightmare  
> Include your element in your fic. It does not have to be bent but the element must be plot-relevant - 3 points [Earth]  
> Covering for Earthbender, White Falls Wolfbats  
> Characters: Azula and Zuko  
> 935 words

She had struck a great blow and yet felt nothing. Azula smirked and sneered at her brother, her soldiers, even her associates that had aided her in the coup of Ba Sing Se. Yet it was hollow, empty posturing. When attention left her Azula felt the satisfaction fall from her face in an avalanche. Bringing down the great Earth Kingdom city without bloodshed was a great feat but the fissure in her chest yawned further open rather than slam shut.

She reasoned that the triumph would come from returning home to Father. Beyond a doubt she had proven herself to be the superior sibling. Zuko had hardly played a part in the death of the Avatar or the Earth Kingdom revolution. But the Fire Lord's adoration was still not won. He had nodded and waved to his council to mark the changes on their planning documents. The dying embers of Azula's pride smothered further under her father's boot.

At night, there were even more agonies. Her mother came to her in dreams, burns blossoming on her perfect skin as she named each atrocity that Azula caused. Her words echoed endlessly, accomplishments turned to sharp torment that Azula could not keep out. Her hands clamped over her ears and she woke that way, nails digging bloody furrows into her scalp as she twisted in her plush bed.

In the dark of her bedroom, she repeated her mantra to herself. Everything that she had done  _must_ lead to something worthwhile. She would achieve success and ascend the throne to a glorious, perfect Fire Nation that she helped to craft. Her reflection mocked her rather than offer solace. Her confidence smoldered still, gasping for air.

There was the barest hint of a breeze when the Comet approached. It wasn't enough to lift her spirits, not fully, but Azula felt a spark of renewal. The end was nigh. Her nights eased and she more easily believed her own confident mask.

Azula returned to needling Zuko and reminding him that  _she_  was the one that seized the Fire Nation's inevitable victory from the jaws of a defeat  _he_  was going to let happen. He sulked, refusing to rise to her raised hackles or to react to the war efforts rising to a fever pitch.

"Do you really think that your one tiny act of loyalty is enough for you to skate by as heir?" Azula asked one evening. She'd tracked him back to his room where he had disappeared to even before dinner had concluded.

He sat on a trunk of clothes, one that had been dragged from the depths of the palace's storage. When Father had first banished Zuko, Azula had laughed while watching the staff pack all his belongings into cases like it. Then all lingering traces of the prince had been scrubbed away. Even now his desk and wardrobe lacked the old, faded photographs that had once littered the surfaces.

He seemed intent to ignore her question, which wouldn't do. Azula swept over to stand in front of him, one hand on her hip and the other prodding him in the chest. "You can't avoid the truth, Zu-zu," she mocked.

Zuko's expression was hollow when he twisted his head to look up at her. "He's not dead, Azula," he said.

His words sent a tremor through her gut. The chasm yawned wide in her mind, threatening to consume her. "Who's not dead?" Azula retorted.

Bitter laughter shook Zuko's shoulders. "Who do you think?"

Hackles raising, Azula dove headfirst away from the empty void into the fire of her anger. When every other feeling left her, it was always there to welcome her. "I struck the Avatar down myself. He couldn't have survived," she hissed. "You just don't want to consider the possibility that we might actually win this war."

"Maybe," Zuko breathed. A glint lurked flint-like in his eyes. Azula wanted to crush and smash it into rubble.

"You made your choice, brother. You came back to the fold. Welcome home. You should start acting like a prince again instead of buying into baseless rumors," she hissed. "They're lying to stir up their resistance. It won't matter. In a few weeks, we'll have conquered them all."

His eyes narrowed. "That's all you want to be, isn't it? A conqueror," Zuko said.

"It's our right," Azula said. Her brother was unconvinced. "It's  _my_ right at least. I have the guts to risk it all and bring them all down to kneel before the Fire Nation."

Zuko didn't move, didn't say anything further. Azula snorted and turned on her heel to storm to the doorway. It was pointless trying to drive the point further into Zuko. She'd try again some other day to drag him kicking and screaming back into the fold.

"You're right that you're risking everything," Zuko called from behind her. Pausing, she let him say his final piece. "The thing is, you can just as easily lose it all if you're not careful." The truth of her fears hit her like whiplash. An earthquake ripped open the hole in her chest.

Her anger flared, looking for something to consume. All that remained was the fissure and the void, a barren land without a hint of fuel to burn. Azula ran away. She had to keep going.

When Zuko disappeared under the cover of darkness to betray their nation, Azula still could not stoke the fire of her glee to life. Her machinations had worked before with Zuko out of the picture and yet now with him gone, the foundation of her plans had crumbled into dust.


End file.
